


Sweetest Taste of Sin

by amysteryspot



Series: Little Lamb [2]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, Multi, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Polyamory, Smut, Threesome, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amysteryspot/pseuds/amysteryspot
Summary: “Have you ever touched yourself, Aggie?”She takes a deep breath, eyes cast to the ground as she denies with a head shake. Agnes can feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks and neck. Alfie is teasing her, she knows that—he already knew the answer even before he asked the question.His rough fingers tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at him as he says,“No need to be shy, little lamb.”
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Little Lamb [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983313
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Sweetest Taste of Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Not me writing 2000 and something words of pure self indulgent smut between the trio because I couldn't get it out of my head any other way. No, absolutely not.  
> If I’m going to hell, I’m gonna take you all with me. What this is called again? Catholic guilty, perharps? Don’t know, I’m not that religious anymore, but this still feels like a sin. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There’s a lot of fluffiness on this one, I swear. The boys are all soft for Agnes. For now.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as @amysteryspot, if you like, and please, PLEASE, give me some feedback. That's what makes this writer keep on writing.

“Have you ever touched yourself, Aggie?”

She takes a deep breath, eyes cast to the ground as she denies with a head shake. Agnes can feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks and neck. Alfie is teasing her, she knows that—he already knew the answer even before he asked the question.

His rough fingers tilt her chin up, forcing her to look at him as he says,

“No need to be shy, little lamb.”

He leans in, bringing their lips together in a sweet and chaste kiss.

What his eyes show her when they part is totally different, and Agnes’s breath gets caught in her throat at his next words,

“Such a beautiful, sweet, and innocent thing that knows nothing about pleasure.”

He glances at the other man, sitting comfortably at her right side, caging her in between them both.

“We can’t have that, can we, Tommy?”

Agnes shivers at the feeling of Tommy’s hands caressing her bare arms as he hums in agreement, moving closer to her.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to Agnes.”

His tone is reassuring, and Agnes caught herself leaning into his touch.

“Oh, she wants it, mate,” Alfie chuckles, “Don’t you, Aggie?”

Alfie’s hand is resting on her left knee, fingers tracing lazy circles there. She can feel the heat of his palm even through the layers of clothing between their skin.

She nods, afraid of not being able to form a coherent sentence if she opens her mouth, still not quite believing what she is agreeing to.

“Verbal answers, little lamb.”

“Yes, Alfie.”

“That’s it, good girl.”

She closes her eyes at the praise, content to make him happy.

“She wants it, see. Why don’t you show her how to start, Tommy? Be a good host, won’t you?”

“Look at me, Agnes,” Tommy commands.

Alfie chuckles when she takes a moment too long to obey.

“Come on, Aggie, look at me.”

The command sounds almost like a plea in Tommy’s voice, and Agnes is unable to ignore it, turning her head and opening her eyes, slowly, to meet his ice blues staring back at her.

He seems to search for something in her face—reassurance, perhaps—gaze travelling down to her lips for a brief second before returning to her eyes. Whatever Tommy is searching for, he must have found it, because his exitance lasts only a second before his lips are on hers.

For someone with a reputation that involves so much violence, Tommy’s touch, much like his kiss, is surprisingly gentle. He brings her closer to him, making her lean back against his chest, catching her left hand in his and intertwining their fingers.

Alfie takes off her shoes, taking the opportunity to bring her left leg to rest on his lap, her other feet resting on the ground. Lifting the hem of her dress, his fingers brush against the stocking, making their way up until he finds the stripes of her garter belt. He unclasps the clips and starts to roll down each stocking, kissing the skin revealed from time to time, leaving her legs bare and making her gasp against Tommy’s lips when he starts to draw lazy patterns on the insides of her thighs.

“Shhhh, it’s alright, treacle. Just trust us.”

Parting from Tommy, Agnes looks at Alfie, nodding at his reassurance.

He pulls her to him, kissing her slow and deep, while Tommy unbuttons her dress. Two different pairs of hands make quick work of discarding the fabric, leaving her on just her slip and undergarments.

Feeling exposed, her instant reaction was to try and cover herself, crossing her arms in front of her and shrinking.

“No, don’t need to hide, sweetheart, huh. It’s just me and Tommy, you don’t have to worry, okay.”

Alfie’s hands take hold of her wrists, gently lowering them down to her lap.

She feels Tommy’s lips on her shoulder, kissing their way up her neck until he could whisper in her ear,

“You can trust us, Aggie. Just give in.”

His voice is low and husky, heavy with desire.

Turning her head to look him in the eyes, Agnes does exactly what he asked her to, she gives in, leaning in to kiss Tommy. She doesn’t protest when his fingers lower the straps of her slip, tracing the skin of her arms on its way down.

Another pair of hands loosen the fastenings of her brassiere, discarding the piece after freeing her arms from it.

She gasps at the feeling of Alfie’s hands cupping her exposed breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing against her sensitive nipples.

Tommy doesn’t relent, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss when Agnes parted her lips. One of his hands finds its way to her hair, fingers entangling with it, guiding her the way he wanted. The other find one of hers, their fingers sliding between each other with ease, again.

“Oh God,” she exclaims, breath caught in her throat when she feels Alfie’s lips around her nipple.

Resting her forehead against Tommy’s, she shuts her eyes as a wave of unknew pleasure shots through her body.

“Not quite, love,” Alfie answers, chuckling, before his lips return to work.

It was an exquisite combination of sensations: his tongue, wet and hot, circling the sensitive skin; his soft lips contrasting with the roughness of his beard. Agnes caught herself holding onto his messy locks of hair with her free hand as if trying to bring him even closer.

He kneads the other breast with skilled fingers, making her whine and trash against him, finding solace in hiding her face in the crock of Tommy’s neck.

Letting go of her hand, Tommy makes quick work of finding the hem of her dress and bunching it up at her hips. He traces the skin of her inner thighs, up and up until his fingers brush the fabric in between her thighs and she moans against his skin, closing her legs by reflex, reacting to the unknown touch.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love. Say stop and I stop,” he says, placing a kiss on her hairline.

“No.”

Agnes would be surprised at how desperate and needy her voice sounded if her brain could register anything other than all the sensations two of the most powerful gangsters in the country were bringing out of her.

She was going to hell; of that she was sure.

“No? You want more?”

“Yes, _please_ , Tommy.”

He curses under his breath at the same time Alfie chuckles.

She is distracted by the feeling of cold air being blow onto her breasts. The contrast between the hot pat of saliva left by Alfie’s mouth with the cold makes her shiver.

At the same time, Tommy’s hand found its way inside her bloomers. Alfie’s fingers turn her face to him, lips finding hers and swallowing the moan that leaves her lips when the other’s man fingers brush her core.

“She’s so wet, Alfie,” Tommy groans, “So fucking wet.”

His touches are slow and deliberate, bringing her both relief and agony.

In her search for something to hold on to, she grabs the fabric of Tommy’s shirt with one hand, clutching it tightly against her fingers, while she feels Alfie taking hold of the other, lips kissing her knuckles one by one.

“You’re doing so well, little lamb. So well,” Alfie praises, lips traveling up her arm, shoulder, and then her neck.

His free hand drawing loose patterns on the inside of her knee that is resting against his leg, keeping her legs apart.

Her mind wanders, thinking about how ashamed she should be for being so willing to open her legs to these men. She would be tainted now. Giving herself up before marriage like that—not to one, but two men. Two very dangerous and sinful men. Two men that she was falling for.

As if sensing her thoughts, Tommy’s voice brings her back to reality,

“Don’t think, love. Stop thinking, just feel, eh. Just feel.”

Agnes doesn’t recognize the mewl that leaves her lips when Tommy’s index finger starts to draw circles on her clit.

“So wet and so responsive, Aggie,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against her, his eyes closed.

“She’s a good girl, Tommy. Such a good girl for us, aren’t you, little lamb?”

Something stirs inside of her at Alfie’s words. She looks at him through heavy eyelids, nodding, satisfied when he smiles and leans closer to kiss her again.

Pleasure clouds her mind and all Agnes can do is feel—rough hands roaming through her body, lips against hers and on her skin, words whispered to her as she falls deeper into sin.

“Tommy,” she pants, feeling his finger tracing her entrance at the same time that his thumb takes its place at massaging her clit.

Carefully, he slid his finger into her, cursing when she grips his thighs for support, otherwise, she feels like she might fall apart.

She pants, gasping and moaning, chest heaving trying to catch her breath, her eyes closing, tightly, and thighs locking against Tommy’s hand as his finger curls inside of her.

“That’s it, little lamb. Let it go, huh. Just let it go.”

Agnes shakes her head, too afraid of what is happening to her. The pleasure is too overwhelming and she knows that once she gives in there is no going back for her.

“Come on, Aggie. Don’t be afraid, come for us, eh.”

Tommy’s lips brush against her ear as he whispers to her, encouragingly, and Agnes can’t hold back anymore. A warm and strange feeling washes over her as she trembles, still feeling Tommy’s fingers on her core.

She is gasping and moaning, too far gone in bliss to even care about it.

“Fuck, that’s it, Aggie. You did well, so well, love. You’ve been so good,” Alfie’s voice praises as Tommy plants a kiss on her forehead, removing his fingers from her.

She opens her eyes, slowly, too weak to move, losing her breath and gasping in shock when Tommy brings his fingers to his own lips, licking them clean.

“So sweet,” he says, looking into her eyes, before leaning in to kiss her.

Sin, that’s what Agnes tastes on his tongue as she slowly comes to her senses.

When they part, Alfie leans in, kissing Tommy, slow and sensual, while holding her close. It’s a rare display of affection between them, and she feels warm and content of being able to witness it.

“Fucking hell,” Alfie curses, “Sweetest taste of sin.”

Tommy helps her sit up and Alfie is quick to bring both her legs to rest on his, and then kissing her, as Tommy slides her slip up her arms again.

Alfie holds her face close, looking her in the eyes, asking,

“How are you feeling, uh, Aggie?”

She tries to avoid his stare, but his hold on her, even though gentle, is firm, trapping her in his gaze.

“Come on, tell us, little lamb. Don’t be shy, we need to know you’re alright.”

Agnes ponders for a moment, a conflict raging inside of her. She knows that what she did—what she let them do to her—is wrong, a sin. Yet, as she stares back at Alfie, feeling Tommy’s hands roaming up and down her arms, Agnes can’t help but think that it felt so good, so right.

“Good,” she says, pausing to take a deep breath and continuing, “I’m feeling good, Alfie.”

He seems satisfied with that, giving her a little peck on the lips before looking at Tommy and saying,

“You take her upstairs. I’ll be right behind to run her a bath.”

Tommy nods, and they both help her up, her legs still feeling like jelly, a strange burning sensation on her core.

Agnes can’t contain the question before it leaves her lips, regretting it, instantly,

“What about you two?”

Both men exchange a glance of pure surprise and disbelief towards one another and Agnes can’t help the blush from creeping onto her cheeks again.

“Fucking hell, the little lamb can barely stand, yeah, and she is worried about us, Thomas!”

A pair of strong arms turns her around and she is facing Tommy, trying to avoid his piercing eyes.

His fingers brush her chin, tilting her head up and placing his lips on her, quickly.

“Don’t worry about us, love. I’m getting you upstairs, you’re taking a bath, and then you’re going to rest. We will talk tomorrow, okay?”

She nods, letting out a little squeal of surprise when Tommy takes her in his arms, bridal style, to get her upstairs.

The next moments pass in a rush. Tommy places her on the bed of what she assumes to be his room, while Alfie goes to the bathroom to prepare the bath. Tommy helps her out of her clothes and into the warm water, both men disappear for a moment, coming back moments later, both in their sleeping clothes, already.

They help her out of the bathtub, dry her, and then Tommy slips one of his shirts into her, carrying her to the bedroom and laying her down, gently, onto the soft mattress.

Alfie approaches from the other side to cover her up with the sheets and blankets before they start to walk to the door.

“Stay,” the plea is out of her lips before she can think too much about it.

Except that there is not much to think about. She already let them kiss and touch her so intimately, that sharing a bed seems trivial.

Tommy and Alfie glance at each other, like they’ve done downstairs, at the parlour, and then Tommy asks,

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I want you to stay.”

It’s strange and at the same time, it’s not.

Both Tommy and Alfie take off their shirts, making Agnes blush. They had seemed her naked, had kissed her, and touched her in ways that nobody ever did, and yet, this was the most undressed that she had seen them.

She doesn’t even know why she asked them to stay, Agnes was used to sleeping alone but, for some reason, she didn’t want to be alone tonight.

When they both slip in bed, one at each side of her, it feels natural, comfortable, homey.

Tommy brings her to him, one arm sliding under her head, making her rest on his chest as Alfie holds her waist, his body flush against her back.

“Goodnight, Aggie.”

“Goodnight, Tommy, Alfie.”

“Goodnight, little lamb.”


End file.
